Corinthians 13:12
by Michelle H. C. Zhu
Summary: [On perpetual hiatus] There are other ways to break someone without the use of violent force. Dark Glass teaches, and Placido learns. [Yaoi]
1. Through a glass, darkly

_"You have but one purpose in life… that is, to keep Fudou Yuusei from harm."_

_"Understood."_

* * *

><p>When Placido crossed over into the realm of consciousness, the first thing his vision focused on was the gloss of hardwood floor. Seeing the simplicity, the <em>normality<em> of his surroundings that contrasted so much from the futuristic design of the Iliaster headquarters was enough to shake loose the shackles of sleep and bring his darkened mind to a full alert.

A moment was all Placido needed to realize that something was very, very off.

It demolished his mental frame on _so many levels_ to wake up and find himself lying on the ground, bound and gagged like he was some sort of commonplace prisoner. His arms were fettered tightly behind his back, fixed in such a way that didn't allow even the smallest margin of movement, and even the great Emperor of Iliaster – one who held the capacity to control weather and manipulate technology to his whim – couldn't break out of the simple physical bounds set upon him. The strip of cloth around his mouth kept him from screaming, though Placido was already screaming silently in his head as he stared at his blurred reflection in the floor, his single crimson eye not really focusing on anything, his body still and unmoving.

Yet it wasn't the tautness of the bondage that hampered him. With no blood flowing through body, he was immune to the tiny mishaps of the human body like the stiffness that came with having one's limbs bound up for too long. There was no pain swimming through his veins, no sickening heat extending to his muscles—all the small discomforts that constantly challenged the homeostasis of the ever-so-delicate human being were bittersweet luxuries that Placido had the fortune of being exempt from. Even had he been physically knocked out prior to waking up to this unfamiliar place, there would be no throbbing ache in the back of his head dampening his thought process or causing a sense of vertigo that would have otherwise delayed his escape. Ultimately, it wasn't pain that hindered Placido from moving—it was the fear.

_What the hell was going on?_

How did he - what did he -

Was this some _sick joke_?

Lucciano may have been an infuriating brat who found a sadistic glee in watching him twist and squirm, but he didn't have the balls to do something like this. And Jose, that old man_…_ he could go bitch and whine all he wanted about Placido's imprudence, but even gramps couldn't deny that the Diablos had drawn out the Infinity Circuit to some degree, perfection be damned. Insufferable as Jose was, Placido knew better than to believe the eldest Emperor was responsible for his current position—it was too much, too cruel to even consider the possibility that the bounds and gag was perhaps some form of punishment for flouting Jose's authority and getting himself killed.

(They needed him. He was one of them. The kid grated his nerves and the old man was a senile fool but they were _all he had_ -)

And_…_ and in any case, neither Lucciano nor Jose should have even been aware that he was up and running; as far they were concerned, their third member was still out of commission from that last duel. Cackling mockery and admonishing lectures were the last thing Placido wanted to deal with, so he'd specifically coerced the scientists who oversaw his repair to keep quiet for the time being—at least until Placido had finished squeezing all the shame and rage out of his system and mapped out the fine details of _every last thing he was going to do_ to Fudou Yuusei.

There was a part of him that refused to believe that Iliaster could have played even the remotely smallest role in his current state of affairs, which gave leeway to the only other option Placido could come up with: he had been kidnapped.

That thought alone filled Placido with an inexplicable rage that coursed through his body like miasma, choking out any final fragments of pity he could have had for the human race.

Who on earth had the audacity to condemn _him_, one of the Emperors of Iliaster, to such state? What human possibly had the nerve - _no_, the capacity to pull this off? He had the strength of ten men, and Placido was certain he could probably take down a whole slew of thugs with his sword alone. So then how was he able to be subdued? What could his captors want from him? And why - _why couldn't he remember anything?_

It was then Placido came to the startling realization that he had no recollection of how he got here. A rapid search in his recent database only drew up a period of stasis; there was a brief, vague memory of waking up at the laboratory in Iliaster and he recalled being just so _angry_ he had been beaten by a _human_ – before it all went black, and then he found himself here. There was an unexplainable gap in his memory, a black hole that filled the space between the last thing Placido recalled doing and the demented state he was in now.

Tendrils of fear crept up from his subconscious. This uncertainty scared him. The world suddenly seemed to be much more vast.

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

A beat.

When the reality finally sunk in (he was bound, he was _helpless_ _and couldn't do a thing about it _and yes this was _real_ this wasn't some sick dream) Placido willed his surprisingly heavy body to rise from the ground and settle in a less demeaning position. Sitting up, he searched his surroundings for answers.

Placido wasn't sure what he had been expecting. His mind briefly entertained the image of chains dangling from the wall of a medieval-styled dungeon. It had been mostly a reflexive thought as dungeons were iconic to kidnapping_…_the exact same way that curtain-lined windows with sunlight filtering through weren't.

Within the five seconds that he had to himself, Placido came to the dazed realization that not only was he not in Iliaster's headquarters, but he was in what seemed to be someone's home. A person - a human lived here, clearly. Far too small to be a house_…_ an apartment, perhaps? It was a cluttered, dusty place that gave off a sense of mundane and anonymity and nothing of interest caught his eye.

There was a desk and a filing drawer lining the wall with a worn-out couch shoved between them. Adjacent to it was a shelf filled with dated magazines and a cardboard box with an array of metal parts peeking over the rim. The workings of a kitchen could be made out in the next room. Judging from the film of dust over everything, it looked as if the place hadn't been inhabited for at least a month or so.

As his mind processed everything he just took in, the door that Placido didn't even know was there – suddenly opened. Like a switch flicking on, his head immediately snapped to the direction of the sound—

—standing in his line of sight was the only other man on earth to ever challenge his authority.

"_… you!_"

The cloth severely muffled the word, but the accusatory tone in Placido's voice was unmistakable. His blood boiled.

The stranger known as 'Dark Glass' was looking down at Placido rather mildly, as if it was a common everyday occurrence for him to walk in on his enemy bound and gagged at his feet. At Placido's stifled remark, Glass' blank expression changed into that of slight amusement.

"Me. And you too, it seems."

Placido shook in his bounds.

Well now.

_That_ confirmed it.

Placido had no idea how Dark Glass found out his location or how the D-wheeler abducted him from within the walls of Iliaster – he didn't have an inkling of idea how this stranger pulled any of it off let alone _why…_—yet there was one he knew one thing for sure: Dark Glass wasn't a threat.

For all his bold declarations and intensity, the mysterious D-wheeler had always been little more than a thorn to Placido's side rather than direct opposition like Yuusei proved to be. He was a nagging pest, a weed in the garden that just wouldn't die no matter how times he had been uprooted. For being one of the insolent few to repeatedly challenge Iliaster's authority, the man had earned the honor of being on the list of people Placido had planned on personally silencing when the time came around. But now with this sudden turn of events, the meddling bastard might have just moved up several rungs_…_

The tendrils of fear lingering in the corner of Placido's mind this entire time withered away and died, usurped by a boast of superiority and the ever present vehemence within him that had only taken a temporary backseat to the uncertainty of the situation. It was intensely satisfying and filling to have something - _someone_ solid to pin his resentment on. His boldness resurfaced as the pieces slowly clicked together and his mind wove a skewed picture of the scenario; even in his defenseless state, Placido felt not an ounce of fear for the man in front of him – only anger.

A hundred things squeezed their way to the tip of his tongue, but the gag restricted him from uttering anything intelligible so Placido settled for shooting Dark Glass a glare accompanied by a deep, threatening growl.

The man was silent for a moment, surveying Placido with a largely unreadable expression before kneeling down in front of the Emperor and gently unloosening the piece of cloth around his mouth.

"… You _dare_ kidnap me?" were the first words Placido hissed out, "You'll pay for this treachery with your life – a dead man walking."

His words barely got a blink of Dark Glass, who remained unfazed. "Huh. Ironic, coming from someone who met his own demise not so long ago if I recall."

"And you'll meet yours in due time," he snarled back without missing a beat, "But tell you what. If you let me go this instant, I'll be merciful and deliver a quick and painless death right here."

"You know, threatening me doesn't have the same effect when you're tied up like this."

Placido shot daggers at Dark Glass, feeling the man's cockiness grate at his nerves much more than usual. "Do you really think mere bounds can hold me down?" he spat.

"It looks like it's doing a good job from where I'm standing," Dark Glass replied smoothly, and then adding with an afterthought, "Should I tighten them?"

Placido bit back a snarl, his mind exploding with thoughts inundated in a flood of familiar hatred. After a brief moment of lightheadedness, he forced himself to rein in his temper and control his emotions before it began to critically interfere with his judgment; at least, if he was going to find a way out of this mess.

"And here I thought humans couldn't sink any lower…" Placido started, his eye darting with spurts of hate, "but I guess I should have expected this kind of deed from someone like you." His lips curled into a sneer. "Are you so afraid of me that you've stooped to kidnapping to get the upper hand?"

Dark Glass let out a soft, cynical laugh. "Stooped? You're one to talk, Placido. You'd probably do the same thing if you were given the opportunity."

A red eye narrowed warily at Glass' words. "You know nothing about me," Placido growled, the smirk vanishing like smoke.

Calmly, and with just the tiniest dust of complacency, "I know that you've resorted to nothing but underhanded tricks so far to get your way. Am I really supposed to believe that abduction isn't somewhere on your list of schemes?"

The accuracy of his statement was like a knife to the side. Placido _had_ briefly entertained the thought of abducting one of the Signers after he re-awoke… though having the idea turned against him felt somehow unjust. Without thinking, Placido struggled in his bounds, sorely wishing for a chance to run his sword through the man's throat right about now.

His struggles were in vain; his fetters were tight as ever and his attempts only drew up the corners of Glass' mouth whose face was otherwise neutral.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"You couldn't be more wrong," Placido snapped, "Don't underestimate Iliaster's power. Unlike _some_ people, we don't need to use cowardly acts to achieve our goal."

His eyebrows rose. "No, really."

"I'd just be wasting my breath explaining it to you," Placido retorted, "An ignorant human can never grasp the full extent of our mission, let alone begin to appreciate it." He huffed, trying to keep the mounting desperation out of his voice. "Now this is your final warning: Untie me and I'll _consider_ having your life spared when the time comes. A worm like you couldn't possibly ask for more."

Dark Glass was silent for a moment, before replying with a surprising lack of sarcasm.

"A tempting offer, but you're not the only one with a mission. Did you already forget what my purpose is?"

His voice left a hollow space in its wake. It didn't take much effort for Placido to recall his words. They were etched into his mind.

_I was created for the purpose of destroying you._

Glass' declaration struck a nerve. Was he a _hostage_? —and yet the idea was discarded almost immediately after it surfaced. It seemed unlikely. Kidnapping him and using him as a bargaining chip didn't seem like something Dark Glass would do; the man was far too righteous for that. His captor's ambiguous words left Placido's gears grinding in confusion; he took a stab in the dark.

"Fool," he hissed under his breath. "You thought that by taking me out of the picture, you would foil Iliaster's ambitions?"

To Placido's surprise, Dark Glass only broke into a chuckle. "…is that what you think?"

"Then what is it?" he demanded.

The smile continued to linger on Glass' expression as closed his eyes and turned away. "Don't exaggerate your own worth, Placido. If I thought your absence in the organization would hinder their movement, I would have erased you eons ago. From the way I've seen you associates treat you, my guess is they'll continue on with their plan whether or not you're there to see it through."

Placido stopped breathing. "_What_?"

"To be honest, I'm surprised to even see you fixed up from the sorry state Yuusei put you in. Iliaster must have time to spare if they actually went and repaired a useless heap of scrap."

If what Dark Glass said (in a cool, unflappable voice like he wasn't even _worth_ _the effort to insult_) hadn't been enough alone to push Placido over the edge, then the self-satisfied smirk that appeared on Glass' face nudged Placido those few final inches until he was all but drowning in his own boiling anger. He was spewing threats and minacities before his mind could even process what he was saying, and if it hadn't been for his bondage restricting his movements, Placido swore that the man's torso would be splayed on the ground by now, split clean from the lower half of his body.

The amusement lingered in Glass' expression for a few seconds longer before it melted into his usual seriousness and he closed his eyes, his patience evidently wearing thin from the raving. Placido was like a caged tiger, ferocious and bloodthirsty - and yet rendered utterly harmless behind the metal bars.

"Be quiet. You're in no position to be making threats, or are you too blind to realize that?"

Placido cut off mid-tirade, his momentum broken. A sputter. "How _dare _you—"

Kneeling down, Dark Glass promptly stuffed the cloth into Placido's mouth.

"…!" A red eye widened again, and then Placido sunk into an almost childish state of indignant fuming, glaring at Dark Glass with red-hot glares that bounced right off.

The D-wheeler waited several seconds for Placido to burn himself out before he leaned forward until their faces were inches away, murmuring, "I'm going to remove this again and when I do, you're going to speak like a normal person. Are we clear?"

As a gloved hand pulled the gag from his mouth, Placido resisted the urge to sink his teeth into the man's fingers, feeling far too prideful to resort to such a petty method of retaliation.

"You're rather _bold_ for someone who's completely in the dark to his own _annihilation_," Placido spat out, the words flicking from his tongue like poison, "I hope you savor this shallow victory while you can. It won't be long before the Infinity Circuit is complete and there's nothing you or anybody else can do to stop it."

Dark Glass regarded his tirade with an impassive look, but Placido could see a flicker of emotion behind the visor for the very first time, an uncertainty seeping out from behind the indifference.

"And as for Fudou Yuusei…" His tone darkened, and he eased into a vindictive sneer, "Well, you can have the honor of having the front row seat for when I utterly crush him."

"Don't kid yourself," Dark Glass finally replied, dryly, and yet a note of anger had found its way to his once calm voice. "With Accel Synchro, Yuusei will overcome whatever obstacles you throw at him. He destroyed you once, and he'll do it again."

For the first and only time, Dark Glass was truly taken aback by Placido's response when the Emperor threw back his head and laughed.

"You think so, huh?" His face was a mixture of cruelty and mutiny, and there was an absolutely mad gleam in his eye, an infinite everlasting vengeance fueled by the hatred of a crushed ego. "Hah… well, I don't know who the hell you are or who you're working for, but know this: you can't protect Yuusei forever. That little trick you taught him won't save him from my Machine Emperor next time. His blind faith in Synchros will be his _and_ your downfall—I'll make sure Wisel will see to that _personally_."

And it was from the rare emotion that flashed across Glass' face, the tiny glint of fear that surged beneath the visor and flitted away over the course of a second that Placido knew he had won. The swell of victory that rose to his chest was like a salve for the wounds to his pride, and Placido smugly watched the sudden shift in his enemy's character.

Glass' visage iced over, the calm neutrality freezing away into cold anger as his cool, appraising gaze sharpened, intensified, and finally began to simmer at the edges with an icy flame. And when he finally spoke, there was chill in his voice that wasn't present before, all veiled with a thin, threatening tone,

"Yuusei will never lose to a rusty piece of slag like you. So if you don't want to be bleeding cathodes out of your spinal cord again, I suggest you leave him alone."

The words stung mildly, like a minuscule insect bite. There was something almost delicious about seeing the raw anger in his enemy's eyes. This man had been so bold as to degrade him through cowardly means and it gave Placido a sense of power to know that he could still hurt Dark Glass even without his cards or his sword.

"And what if I don't?" Placido leered, his voice mocking, challenging. "Do you think you can stop me?"

The momentary loss of control was quickly reined in with a clenching of the fist. The expression on Glass' face tightened as if to shut out any inner emotion, but as he gazed down at the man on the ground, Placido could spot the fire dancing behind the tinted visor.

"You sound pretty confident for someone who lost to the same man twice - and a _human_, at that."

His insult slid off painlessly. "You don't have the faintest clue of what I'm capable of. What you witnessed last time was just a mere taste of my true power."

"That's a shock to hear," Dark Glass replied sardonically. "From my point of view, it looked like you were going all out in that duel. Or was the bike fusion just for theatrics?"

"I'm not surprised. The main event always looks different from the _spectator's_ seat."

His goading was only rewarded with a cold look. "Says the man who abandoned our duel in favor of being ripped in half." An unkind smirk made its way to his lips. "Though… you were bound to face a defeat one way or the other, regardless."

"Are you saying you could have beaten me if we continued the duel?" he hissed, anger fraying the edges of his voice as he briefly lost his advantage. "I practically wiped the floor with you!"

The laugh that came from Glass' mouth was cold. "Please. If you hadn't called your Ghosts to intervene, Yuusei wouldn't have even had the need to duel you."

_That arrogant - !_ "Hmph! Somebody talks big for a tiny bug."

It was then Dark Glass cut through the escalating tension entirely, slicing through the exchange of insults and hostility between the two with a single action—a finger was placed under Placido's chin and tiled his head up by a fraction of an inch so that the two shared a straight, direct gaze. Dark Glass leaned forward and gazed at his enemy with a refined sharpness, his eyes clearer than ever behind the screen, his voice suddenly soft, deadly, enunciating every word,

"You've have a firsthand taste of the raw power of Accel Synchro. Did you enjoy it? Would you believe me if I said that I haven't even taught Yuusei its complete form?"

The resentment was snuffed from Placido's expression, momentarily replaced by a set-jaw look of shock. Placido stared at Dark Glass, stunned, his teeth clenching painfully as he felt the lash at his pride from Glass' boldest assertion yet. _Just who the hell was this man? _

"… … heh. You've got guts – I'll admit that. But let's see if you can back up that bluff! Release me and we'll have a duel right now!"

His challenge was only met with silence. A low chuckle.

"No, no duel," Dark Glass replied softly, "I've learned better than to trust anything you say… you don't play fair, you know?"

_'Look who's talking,' _Placido was tempted to snap back, feeling the bounds cut into his arms for the first time. He internally soured, feeling a bit defeated. Along with the chance to eliminate a troublesome pest, he also lost an opportunity to escape… or at least even the playing ground to where he stood a fighting chance. The enmity resurfaced after a passing lull, and Placido muttered out a few waspish words.

"… che. A fitting answer for a coward."

Glass said nothing to the insult but cast Placido another unreadable look, his once thinly controlled emotions obscuring into a concealed enigma once again. "I didn't say we wouldn't play a game."

He edged a mistrustful glare at the man. "Oh? And what game do you suggest, pray tell?"

To Placido's surprise, Glass simply closed his eyes and smiled. "You'll see."

Leaving Placido slightly unsettled, Dark Glass walked past him and began looking through the desk drawer, apparently in search of something. The Emperor geared around and maintained a close watch on his enemy's movements, keeping an eye out for any tip-off that would give away Glass' hidden intentions.

There was nothing he couldn't handle, least of all physical torture. His pain tolerance was higher than most humans, an added benefit of having a metal body. So whatever this bastard planned to throw at him…

"Would you like to know something interesting?" Dark Glass asked conversationally, his tone perceptibly lighter than before, as if he was trying to ease the tension, "Truth of the matter is, I'm quite fond of cats."

"… really, I would have never guessed," Placido retorted in thick sarcasm, briefly recalling their first encounter on the highway. "Are you going to sic a cat on me? Have one scratch me to death?"

A noncommittal grunt was his only reply, and Placido sat through several more agonizing seconds of rummaging before a soft "ah!" caught his attention. His gaze rose to meet his captor's and then shifted to the object clutched between the man's fingers: a leather cuff.

For a brief moment, Placido stared at it, unable to recognize the article for what it was—before his eye widened in comprehension.

Placido wasn't given a chance to react—a vice-like grip clamped down on his shoulder to hold him still while diligent fingers swiftly fastened the cat collar around his neck. Placido could barely choke out a horrified gasp before the task was completed and Dark Glass was already standing back up to examine his handiwork with a complacent look.

"I think it suits you."

"Do… do you have a _death wish_?" Placido whispered, unable to wrap his mind around what just happened. His gaze was glued to the ground in frozen horror, his mind reeling and then going blank, a look of disgust mingling with disbelief written all over his face. There were no words.

"Not at all. I just happen to like cats."

While Placido was still void in shock, Dark Glass encroached on his space once more, this time trailing a hand to his hood.

"I always did wonder why these were here…" he mused, toying between his fingers one of the lightning-shaped trinkets that stuck out from Placido's hood. "They rather resemble ears, don't you think?"

The absurdity of the statement brought Placido back to his senses and he jerked away, staring at Dark Glass like he was a centipede that slithered out from underneath the couch.

"_Don't touch me_." The words were hissed automatically, clipped and dripping with disgust.

"Rawr… kitty has claws."

"_I AM NOT YOUR GODDAMNED PET!_" Placido roared, his voice peaking in volume as the coat of initial shock and revulsion had all but faded off, revealing the white-hot rage that lay underneath. "You filthy human - I will not be _subjected_ to this type of treatment - _let me go_ _this instant!_"

Glass' smile faded. He remained expressionless for a moment, before a small look of innocent inquisitivity appeared on his face. He leaned close to Placido, whose furious front was momentarily weakened by a tiny, barely visible flinch from the unwanted proximity.

"Really?" Glass' tone sounded genuinely curious. "I beg to differ."

"… I'll_ kill_ you!"

His captor drew back, chuckling. "So you say. That's just like you, Placido. Always resorting to violence as your first option. Razing down all obstacles that stand in your way with a flick of your sword. And look where it's gotten you…"

In a mocking gesture, Dark Glass reached underneath Placido's chin and scratched the spot above the collar, immediately drawing a livid snarl from the Emperor. Placido twisted and turned his head away from Glass' touch, then finally threw his standards to the wind and viciously bit the offending fingers, fully expecting to hear the satisfying crunch of bones splintering and a cry of pain.

It took him a second to realize that his expectations were off. The fingers were hard and solid, and it felt like he was almost biting into a brick.

"Bad kitty. No biting."

Amid Placido's confusion, he suddenly found himself clocked on the nose by a light, swift tap. The unexpected gesture combined with his previous shock made him lower his guard and Dark Glass took this as an opportunity to retract his fingers from Placido's slacken jaws.

"… you really never learn," Glass remarked with a sigh, "How many times do you have to fail before you learn that straightforward aggression won't get you anywhere?"

Placido shrugged off the man's hand. "Spare me the lecture," he growled, "I rather die than be lectured on how to act by some miserable coward."

"Huh."

There was no elaboration. Dark Glass was silent for several seconds, before finally cutting the tense atmosphere with an unusually bright smile. Rocking back on the balls of his feet, Glass rose from his crouching position and cast a genial look down at his wary captive.

"Are you hungry? I know I am. Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

Without waiting to see or hear Placido's reaction, Dark Glass turned away and walked into the kitchen with a laser beam glare pinned to his back.

Placido kept his gaze locked onto his captor until he disappeared into the other room and it was only then he allowed himself a moment to think. There weren't enough words in the dictionary to describe the revulsion he felt right now.

The previous string of events was still being replayed in his head like a broken camcorder, one scene after the other, over and over again in a never-ending loop, until the images were burned into his mind's eye. The humiliation of being reduced to… _entertainment_ corroded his pride from within, eating away at the circuits that made up everything he held such pride in.

It both shamed and angered him to know that there were some things in this world he couldn't control. He felt _weak _and _vulnerable_ and _helpless_ – an assortment of feelings that he denied he was capable of feeling, and Placido loathed Dark Glass for dredging up the wide array of emotions he had buried in his grave alongside his human self.

If Placido had any shred of respect for Dark Glass before, it had vanished the moment the wretched cat collar was affixed to his neck. A 'game'. What kind of 'game' was this?

A collar was a symbol of slavery. A mark of possession. Glass _owned_ him like he was an animal.

It was sick. It was disgustingly _bold_ – even for Dark Glass.

And there was something very off about that man's behavior. He still radiated the familiar cool, collected aura that peaked Placido's anger, but there was something else there as well—a certain peacefulness that didn't quite suit the mysterious D-wheeler that Placido was familiar with. Glass' actions were far too causal to pass off as a poised confidence; they were unpolished and sloppy, filled with holes ripe for exploiting if only Placido had been the type of person to notice the small details and see past what was directly in front of him. And that cheerful smile… it didn't suit him.

Placido's mind churned. He wanted to bolt - he wanted to run away from this place and push this memory to the recesses of his mind until it was nothing more than a haze. In a brief, fleeting moment of weakness, Placido almost wanted to call on Jose and Lucciano for aid. A light touch to his eyepiece was all that was needed to send a signal of his location, and he was quite sure he could pull it off even with his arms bound behind his back.

Placido would have conceded to the idea had he not be stopped by a sudden vision of Lucciano's leering face and the sound of Jose's slating voice. He could envision them so clearly, the exact details of their expressions and the tones of their voices as they would mock and grimly inquire just what the hell he had been doing. He didn't even have an explanation this time. There was nothing to justify exactly why he required the help of an old man and a kid to free him from an apartment or why he was tied up and branded like an animal.

… Placido growled.

His internal struggling took too long, and the window of opportunity to escape came to an untimely close with the arrival of approaching footsteps.

Placido snapped back to reality when he saw Dark Glass walking towards him, holding a cup of instant ramen with steam rising from the corners of the paper lid. In his other hand was a shallow dish which Placido could only guess was supposed to be his 'food', though the reality didn't sink in until the dish was placed down in front of him and Placido got a good view of its contents.

"Milk for the cat," Dark Glass said cordially, setting his own meal on the desk with a pair of chopsticks.

Placido's throat went dry and for several seconds, he couldn't speak.

"… you must out of your mind if you think I'm going to do this," he finally choked out, and it immediately numbed him to hear just how _weak_ his words sounded.

Dark Glass smiled. "I'm sure I can persuade you somehow."

His head shot up. "You're deranged."

The smile was momentarily splintered - and then, gone. "Huh. Well… I guess I'm in good company then."

"I am _nothing_ like you," Placido snarled back instantly. He didn't brutalize humans like this – and in any case, they… they _deserved_ it. But to have the tables turned…

Dark Glass laughed, airy and cheerful - and for a moment, Placido really believed that his captor had lost his mind. "Okay, okay… sure, if you insist. Now come on kitty, drink your milk…"

A disbelieving splutter. "Go to hell!"

Glass sighed.

Once more, Placido felt a hand rest on top of his head. He fully expected to be pushed face-first into the bowl and braced himself for yet another open gash to his pride—a forced submission for this man's entertainment. But there was no force, no pressure applied; instead, gloved fingers curled together, creating soft mounds in his hood which were toyed with in gentle, circular motions. Dark Glass was petting him.

"Alright… tell you what," his captor said gently, softly, "How about I take you up on that offer and untie your arms?"

A wall of ellipses; the Wisel Emperor blinked once, twice, his mind on a droning buzz before the meaning of Glass' words actually sunk in. Placido peered up from behind Glass' outstretched arm, his eye glued to the man's serene expression, scanning his face for any hint of deceit.

"Are you mocking me?" Placido asked, his voice suddenly soft and touched with a nuance of anger. A calm before the storm.

The man's brow crinkled in confusion, and Placido swore he saw a gleam of hurt behind the visor. "No, of course not. … why?"

"And you expect me to _believe _that?"

"…?" Dark Glass opened his mouth, and then shut it. He looked at a loss for words.

There was something in Glass' sheepish demeanor that dually set off Placido's fury and the alarm bells in his head. It wasn't _right_. This wasn't the same man who boldly challenged him to a duel or charged headfirst into the swarm of Ghosts and proceeded to pick them off one by one.

Placido was sure he was being mocked even if there was nothing sarcastic about Glass' tone, even if there was no visible trace of ridicule or any indication that he was acting in any way that wasn't his real personality… and that was _exactly _what bothered Placido. The way Glass transitioned out of his intense, confident personality into this… this… something else… was unsettling. Dark Glass had already caught him off guard twice, and Placido was vehemently opposed to repeating the same mistake a third time.

"Just what do you think you're playing at? _Answer_ me!" His voice raised a notch when Glass avoided his eyes. "You must deem me a fool to blindly accept your offer and not be the least bit suspicious after the last time when you stuck me in a _cat collar!"_

There was a tiny cringe from those words, a fraction of recoil backwards as if Dark Glass was actually frightened by Placido's wrath. His arm rose behind his back to rub his neck and he looked meekly to the ground.

"… I just thought it would make it easier for you to drink your milk," he finally admitted, his face falling into an uncharacteristically defeated look. "Your arms must be tired too. They, um, sure look like they hurt."

Like cutting the wire to a bomb, Placido felt his anger defuse.

Was Dark Glass… _bargaining_ with him?

Placido was suddenly pricked by a familiar twinge of fear_. __Surely__,_ Glass wasn't really planning on letting him go. This had to still be part of the 'game'. He must have known that Placido would never concede to such a humiliating act in a million years, even at the cost of his freedom. He must have known what would have happen the moment he untied Placido's arms.

There were so many things _wrong _with this situation.

This was something he wasn't used to… where was the mysterious D-Wheeler he had faced before? Placido knew how to deal with antagonism, with opposition. But this - this _mockery_ of kindness and passivity—it forced bile to rise to his throat.

What was Glass really after? Placido knew better than to actually take the man's words at face value; time and time again, Dark Glass proved to be more cunning and depraved than Placido had originally tagged him as. Was this Glass' idea of payment – to utterly degrade and humiliate his enemy beyond reason? Was this why he had been kidnapped?

Endless possibilities swirled around in his head. If Placido had any semblance of what the hell this man was planning, then at least he could mentally prepare himself in advance. But being left in the dark without the faintest idea of what was truly going on or what Glass' real motives were—the possibilities expanded towards infinity. And for someone who held a strong belief in predestination, for someone centered his whole existence around operating on an pre-foreseen future and commanding from the seat of control—the not knowing was simply…_ terrifying_.

"Fine."

Dark Glass, who had been watching the steam from his ramen, quickly looked at him. "… w-what?"

Placido's gaze swept over his captor's face for one final analyzation. He found nothing. Glancing away, Placido swallowed a lump in his throat and finally allowed himself to nod. "I said fine. I'll… do it."

He never had Jose's patience. He needed closure.

Glass' face lit up with surprise before he broke into a big smile, looking hauntingly more and more like someone he was not behind the visor.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if Placido had been played, as if Dark Glass had been selling him a false promise all along. But the blue-haired man moved out of his line of sight and he felt the restriction from his arms lifted. Out of the corner of the vision, Placido saw a snake-like coil drop to the ground and turned his head to the side. His eye fixed on the fetter.

Rope. Rope was the only thing keeping him bound this entire time. Simple, crude, man-made rope…

"There," he distantly heard Dark Glass say.

Placido stayed motionless for a few seconds and just stared at his bounds as if he had forgotten the use his arms.

Then in a gale of unprecedented rage, he had Dark Glass slammed up against the nearest wall. Glass' eyes were wide with shock and alarm, and yet seeing the fear only fueled Placido's rage –

He would kill him. He would kill this bastard for subjecting him to… to _this_ – with the collar - and treating him like a _pet - _like he was some sort of animal – he would rip this man apart – run his sword straight through his neck - and maybe just hack him in two from the waist down like the way Dark Glass had watched Yuusei do to him—

His hand instinctively swung to his side for his sword, but his fingers slipped through and he grasped only air. A fraction of a second passed before Placido came to a lightheaded insight that he had been so distracted since he woke up that he hadn't even noticed his sword had been absent from his waist the entire time. Something that never left his side was gone.

Placido instantly geared to Dark Glass for an explanation.

"_Where is it?_ _Where is my sword?_" Placido seized the front of the man's riding suit and smashed his head against the wall. "_What have you done with it?_"

Dark Glass said nothing except let out a small moan of pain. The hurt sound that escaped Glass' lips was barely satisfying, and Placido hungered for more as waves upon waves of anger mounted on top of one another.

The sword… the sword was part of him. It was part of his identity. It was his – it was _him_ – it was as much as he was as his deck or T-666—and for Dark Glass just to take that away from him—

_He had already taken away his pride, stripped him of his dignity – how much _**_more_**_ was this bastard going to take from him?_

Catalyzed by a sudden surge of adrenaline and unfathomable hated, Placido smashed his bare fist into the man's face. The crunch that followed was intensely satisfying to the core and Placido found himself grinning in sadism when he saw that he had left a crack in Glass' hallmark visor. The man's head had snapped back from the impact and then fell forward loosely; not a sound came out of his mouth; he was unconscious, Placido decided smugly.

He tightened his grip on his enemy's collar and reeled his arm back for another punch—and another - and another - and maybe he would stop when the bastard's face was a mosaic of snapped bone fragments and musculature - but Placido never got a chance to realize his revenge, because he stopped dead short from delivering a second blow to Glass' face when the cracks in the visor gave way and a large piece of the screen broke off, shattering into a thousand crimson fragments the moment it hit the ground.

Frozen in shock, Placido stared at the pair of sharp, gray eyes where the red filler should have been.

It was absurd. He didn't know how… but he recognized that face. A chill ran up his spine when he came to the stark realization that he'd just pinpointed the cause of his ambivalent feelings before. He'd seen it so many times but never gave it much thought. This guy was Team 5D's mechanic, a friend of Yuusei… and the one he met back at the factory.

"You…" Placido whispered in a hushed voice.

A swift punch in the gut was all that was needed to send Placido's thoughts to a crashing halt.

Like a machine short-circuiting, he slumped to the ground.

A wave of déjà-vu laced with mocking irony swept over Placido as his mind began to piece the puzzle together. He was distantly aware of Glass' presence looming over him, radiating razor-thin waves of oppression, and Placido involuntarily braced himself for a kick to the side. Nothing came.

Instead, a half-cracked visor dropped to the ground within Placido's line of sight; he didn't have a chance to blink before a boot came down and smashed the thing into fragments, adding to the already existing lake of glass.

"… I never thought I would get punched by you twice. Bad kitty," Glass' voice hung over him, devoid of the marked submissiveness it held moments before. Yet there was also a surprising lack of anger in his tone; he sounded distant, detached almost. _Well, so much for that. _

Crushing the remaining glass under his heel into powder, Dark Glass threw down a surveying gaze at his enemy lying prone on the floor. His eyes narrowed.

A handful of seconds passed before Placido seemed to awaken from the hit. There was no pain in his movements as he got to his elbows and swung a bewildered look at Dark Glass; he had been paralyzed by the shock alone.

"Just who the hell are you really?" Placido gasped out as another rush of déjà vu swept over him, "How do you know about Iliaster? And what do you want from me?"

The iciness didn't fade from Glass' eyes, though there was a tantalizing edge in his tone when he answered. "I'm exactly who you think I am. I'm the guy who was unfortunate enough to be knocked out cold by some karma-mad robot on two separate occasions."

The insult was barely glanced at. Whatever infuriation Placido felt towards the man's continuous avoidance on the subject of his identity took second seat to an acute desperation that was starting to surface on his face. He_ needed_ to know.

"Was your other personality just a ploy to slip under the radar and get close to Yuusei and teach him Accel Synchro without Iliaster noticing?" Placido pressed, his voice bearing a note of urgency, "Tell me! Was it?"

A dry laugh. "You got it all figured out now, huh?"

"_Don't toy with me!_ I de-…" His voice faltered a notch and he suddenly trailed off, the words lodged in his throat as he came to realize the absurdity of what he was going to say.

Dark Glass peered down at Placido, his expression mocking. "You… what? You _demand_ I give you a more satisfying answer? And what if I don't?" His smirk eased into a cynical chuckle, darkening, and then growing unbearably cold. "Are you going to force it out of me?"

The reference almost flew over Placido's head, but he managed to catch it in time. A quick rewind into his memory database and the meaning behind Glass' words dawned upon him, the insult soaking into his pride like rainwater.

Rage clouded Placido's mind. His hand twitched and shot out to rip out the man's throat, only to be caught and stopped. As the two connected gazes, Placido caught a glimpse of the controlled fury flickering in gray eyes; Dark Glass was holding back his anger too, restraining the beast inside that was ready to tear out of its cage.

"Do you expect me to be intimidated by you, Placido?"

A firm shove was all that was needed to send the Emperor crashing to the floor once again. In the brief interval that followed, Placido was vaguely conscious of Glass' tall figure crouching in front of him. Then a hand reached out and grabbed his hood, the fingers curling into a tight fist around a wad of hair that lay underneath and yanking at the roots. Placido hissed in pain.

"… You know what I think," Dark Glass said, the light tone in his voice tarnished by an underlining tightness, "I think all of the time you spent hiding in the shadows has given you a false sense of your own strength. You so often rely on the strength of others which you mistaken for your own. You couldn't have beaten me without the help of your Ghosts… hell, the entire foundation of your Machine Emperor hinges off stealing other people's powers for your own use."

A stung look of anger flashed across Placido's expression – but whatever retort he was going to spit out was cut short when Dark Glass rose to his feet, consequently dragging up the top half of Placido's body like a marionette on strings until Placido was on his knees and staring up at his captor's face. All traces of the tranquility that had been on Glass' expression was wiped clean off, replaced by a domineering stare that was only sharpened by the lack of the visor.

"You're so proud of yourself and how you were chosen by your God… what good are you to Iliaster anyway? All of your plans - every one of them - has ended in total failure. Your littlest associate even wondered if you were worth the effort to rebuild after Yuusei tore you apart."

Something in Placido cracked. Something within him wavered, a belief he had long since accepted as truth suddenly seemed uncertain as the future he was going to face in his captor's grasp – and for the first time, a genuine fear leaked across Placido's face.

"Now look at you. For all your belittling of humans, you're the one on your knees like an animal. Without your cards and your sword, without your army of Ghosts and the entirety of Iliaster backing you up—you're nothing."

Dark Glass loosened his hold and gave Placido a dismissive shove to the floor with a final set of caustic words,

"I guess what they say is true: the less the worth of a man, the greater his pride."

Placido remained on the ground, motionless, once again too stunned to move. Glass' words hit close to home. He marveled at how his titanium-plated walls had been torn down by a few simple sentences, his self-worth ripped apart by mere rhetoric.

He could have endured the physical suffering. Hurt as it may, physical torture meant nothing to someone made of bolts and circuitry. But the emotional pain… for all of Placido's wishful boasting that he was above humans, he was as vulnerable as the rest of them and his metal body did nothing to protect him from Glass' words.

Dark Glass had known just where to hit him, where his weak points were. Did Lucciano… did he really say that? It sounded like something that would come out of the brat's mouth. In the place where anger would normally peak only rose an unexplainable stab of betrayal, embedding in Placido's side like a thorn, its roots creeping into his infrastructure and rusting his circuits.

…

But beneath the oppressive layer of white-hot numbness and dejection was a tiny wink of truth, so basic and fundamental in nature and yet it meant all the world to him; Placido reached for it with an outstretched hand, took it in his palm and curled his fingers shut, feeling a familiar reassurance and warmth ripple through him—and it was this spark that imbued him with the strength to continue on, to push himself to his elbows and glare up at Dark Glass, his crimson eye spitting flashes of an unbreakable conviction.

"You know_ nothing_."

For a moment, it looked as if Dark Glass was going to hit him. Then carefully, he knelt down to Placido's level, keeping his gaze locked on the Emperor with a calm intensity.

"Enlighten me." His voice was crisp, cool.

Placido stared back at him defiantly. "You can humiliate me all you want, but you can't change what is to come. It has been decided by our God that this decrepit city will fall."

"You're repeating yourself," Glass cut in dryly. "Are you that desperate to have the last word you've resorted to regurgitating the same old nonsense -"

"Shut up, _shut up_, _SHUT UP!__"_ Placido suddenly screamed, his non-mechanical eye flashing with jagged emotion, so raw and powerful that for a single instant, it looked for all the world like Placido was going to break down into tears, so much that Dark Glass became silent. "You know_ nothing, _you hear me,_ NOTHING!_ You don't know what I know! I've seen the future… I've _lived_ through the destruction and the ruins…"

His fists balled tightly in front of him, and he shook, his whole body trembling, but this time not out of anger.

"Mankind has failed us once, and without proper guidance they will doom us again to a future of despair! _I will not allow that to happen! _Regardless of the sacrifices, I _will_ alter history and preserve the future—this play will _not_ end as a tragedy… … and I will not be stopped by a wretched coward who claims that I hide behind the strength of others when _he's the one hiding behind a pretend personality this entire time!_"

Gray eyes misted like frosted glass.

"… bold," Dark Glass murmured, his face suddenly inches away from his own, handling a grip on Placido's chin before the Emperor could blink, "But you're short-sighted as always. It's the tiny details you overlook that always lead to your undoing."

Placid furiously gnashed his teeth, struggling to break out of Glass' suddenly vise-like grip.

"Your plan has a flaw in it. Tell me, Placido… how do you plan on destroying Neo Domino City when you don't even have the power to resist me?"

"_You?_ And just who the _hell_ are you - _mffph!_"

Dark Glass sealed the crack between them with a vicious kiss.

As if someone had pulled the plug, Placido shut down. The immediate rush of embarrassment and queasiness froze before it could hit him, his mental circuits temporarily disconnecting as all time slowed down, the seconds melting painfully by before he could react – one, two, three –

He screamed inside. The waves liquefied and hit him where he was standing, crashing over him and soaking his body until it seeped through his metal skin, inundating him with disgusting human emotions—nausea, terror, shame.

Panic-stricken and overcome with a horror more powerful than anything he had ever experienced before, Placido clenched a hand around the man's shoulder, his palm pressed forcefully against Glass' body armor in an attempt to push him off, before he finally grabbed a fistful of cobalt hair in his other hand and tore away long enough to gasp out, "_S-stop!_ Stop this madness! I won't - I won't_ accept_ _this!_"

"Then stop me," Dark Glass said, ripping away Placido's hand.

"Try to stop me," he said, shoving him against the wall.

"See if you can," he said, joining their mouths once more.

Placido struggled, the tiny threads of despair wrapping around his mind like mycelium until it took hold of all rational thought and he was reduced to thrashing around like a cornered animal—…

A lie. It was all a lie. Dark Glass didn't even give him a chance to retaliate, crushing any signs of rebellion the moment they surfaced.

The instant his teeth grazed the rim of his captor's lip, a gloved hand wrapped around his jaw and kept his mouth clamped open before Placido could bite down. Glass pushed on forward, swallowing Placido's muffled protests and drenching his lips with an assertion of conquest as he pinned Placido's arm to the wall and kissed him until the Emperor's fingers curled and his mind went into a static daze. The tiny shred of his brain that was still functioning tried to figure out how he – an Emperor of Yliaster, a _robot – _could be overwhelmed so easily by a flesh-and-blood human, tried to rationalize his defeat, but in brief moment of cognizance, Placido came to the bleak realization that the how's and why's didn't matter in the end; ultimately, Dark Glass was right—Placido _couldn't_ resist him.

An all too familiar despair welled up -

Placido squeezed shut his eyes, trying to pretend this wasn't happening, trying to disconnect himself from this sick, twisted reality that was a thousand times worse than swallowing Lucciano's unrelenting taunts when his plans failed time and time again, worse than reining in his rage when Jose berated him, worse than the moment when he saw Shooting Star Dragon's attack come hurling towards him – and Placido wished and prayed and pleaded to the God who created him that he was dreaming some disgusting nightmare—

_- no, _this_ wasn't_ his fate -

And had Placido kept his eyes open, he would have seen the tiny details that marred Glass' controlling façade; the trembling of his hand even as it was clenched around Placido's wrist in a grip far too tight, the hesitation and uncertainty that flickered in his unsheathed eyes all grazed with a hint of contriteness as it fixed on the leather collar around his captive's neck.

But before Placido could catch a glimpse of the truth, Dark Glass seized the brief respite as an opportunity to deepen kiss. He tipped back Placido's head and drank him dry, drinking up all the bitterness, the pain and the hatred, the misanthropy and misled convictions until there was nothing left but fear. And when Placido was but hollow and defenseless, Dark Glass filled up the empty space and poured into the Emperor everything he had been holding back since he first stepped into the apartment. In the same way Placido radiated waves of hostility and antagonism that could be felt by an opponent on the other end of the highway, Dark Glass masked his emotion, his visor being both a physical and metaphorical manifestation of this masquerade that now lay as a mosaic of fragments beneath their feet. With his inhibitions gone, Dark Glass flooded the slacken gates with a torrent of bottled up emotion—

_(I watched him struggle and choke on the fear and doubt he_**_suffered_**_becauseofyou)_

_(but he's stronger than you'll ever know) _

_(stronger than you'll _**_ever_**_ be Placido)_

_(you won't hurt him ever again) _

_(I'll see to it personally)_

But when Dark Glass broke off for air and gazed down at him with a predatory look, Placido saw something else emanating in those slate gray eyes. Something violent, feral, and_ personal_ in a way that Glass couldn't completely detach himself from his duty, as if his actions stemmed beyond the protective urges for a friend. It seemed that the weight of a thousand things pressed upon him, as if he was carrying more than just the burden of the obvious, as if there were countless layers of untold truth beneath the surface.

When Dark Glass swooped down and captured Placido's lips once more, his kisses were possessive, domineering, and Placido could taste raw emotion in Glass' mouth – the confusion, the frustration, the anger - as his story through encrypted codes and binary readings—

_ (you took from me the one thing I was always supposed to have)_

—he didn't know what or who he was—not since that one night—

_(it's because of you that I'm going through this)_

_(I don't even know who I _**_am_**_ anymore)_

_(who am I? who am I? who am I who am I whoamIwhoamiwhoami - )_

Like shards of a mirror, Dark Glass tried to salvage the remains of his identity and it was from the helplessness and despair of just_ not_ _knowing_ that the anger rose up. He discarded his dignity and morals to channel those feelings of insecurity into the source of his plight—

(I wasn't pretending.)

(I wasn't hiding.)

_(__This __– this is what you __did __to me.)_

_(__**You brought this upon yourself, Placido**__.)_

—because underneath that calm, confident façade was just a frightened man (child?) so much like the Wisel Emperor himself. Unable to own the one fundamental element that defined an individual, Dark Glass grappled for control through other means—he sought to own the one who took it away from him. Glass devoured Placido's mouth - greedily, hungrily eating him up, seeking to both destroy and own him. He ripped Placido into shreds and slivers as he placed on his tongue all of his failures and weaknesses that had been hidden behind metal walls, tearing Placido apart until he could no longer handle the mental abuse and went limp underneath Glass' body.

When Dark Glass was satisfied, he broke off the kiss with a final nibble on Placido's lip and cast a half-lidded gaze down at the flustered, unhinged toy in his grasp. Placido had arched his head away as soon as the kiss ended as if trying to get as far away as possible from his captor; he was breathing hard.

"You're a loose cannon, Placido," Dark Glass murmured, "Dangerous to all those around you. Someone like you can't be allowed to roam free. So you're going to stay here, with me," (his breath ghosted over his face), "And I'm going to teach you your place."

Placido opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out except short, clipped breaths. There was still something mutinous in his expression, a bit of fight left in his eyes, an iron-hot conviction that wouldn't grow cold even in the iciest tundra.

But when Dark Glass reached out to brush aside a strand of gray hair, Placido just _flinched_ (it wasn't like before - this was a sharp, noticeable jerk echoing a conditioned reflex, like an animal trained to expect pain), and then Glass knew there was still hope.

"You won't be tied up," he said quietly, enunciating every word, "I won't hit you. I won't yell. And if you want, I'll take the collar off as well." He traced the prop with a finger.

"… _Fuck you_," Placido whispered, and for all his anger was worth, it felt justified.

Placido had long since grown used to Glass' unpredictability, his senses sharpened to the point of paranoia—but nothing could prepare Placido for what happened next. Rather than respond to the disobedience with another show of assertion, Dark Glass let out a soft, gentle, almost _sad_ laugh – and for the first time, Placido saw the Bruno reflected in his captor's cold face, unobscured by a tinted screen of red. His breath caught in his throat.

"I was being generous," Dark Glass said, placing his hands on Placido's shoulders and gazing at the Emperor with not-Dark Glass eyes, "You've witnessed what I'm capable of. … I could hurt you very easily -"_ (crush your arm in my hand until_ _wires spew_) "But I'm not going to. You have my word for that, Placido."

A pause.

"It's not that I don't think you deserve it after all the people you hurt with that stunt of yours… I just don't see the point in using force to discipline when I'm going to teach you that violence isn't the answer."

The grip on his shoulders tightened.

"I'm going to teach you to keep your _filthy little paws_ off Yuusei – he doesn't have the_ time_ to _waste_ on a lackey like you."

Dark Glass leaned forward, a sliver of a smile ghosting over his expression when he saw a visible shudder course through Placido's body. His voice lowered to a deep utter, soft and predatory,

"And I'm going to break you down… piece by piece, bit by bit… until you're no longer a threat to me or Yuusei and the Signers or anyone else in this city. No matter how many days or weeks or months it takes, I _will_ break you… and that, Placido—_that is a promise_."

Like the corner piece to the puzzle, everything clicked together.

Dark Glass suddenly drew back his hood, revealing a sheaf of gray-silvery locks that spilled out in all directions – followed by a playful nip to Placido's earlobe that sent shivers up his spine. The few scattered remnants of his pride allowed Placido to bite back a whimper as he tried, tried so _hard_ to stay strong—but when a low chuckle echoed in his ear, laced with honey-coated threats and foreboding promises of the unknown… Placido couldn't help but let out a tiny hiss of fear.

"You sound afraid of me," his captor murmured the familiar words, "You should be. After all, I was created for the sake of destroying you."

* * *

><p><em>For now we see <em>**_through a glass, darkly_**_, but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known._

_- Corinthians 13:12_


	2. Camera Obscura

"I'd like to see you _try_," Placido breathed, and raised a leg to kick Dark Glass in the stomach.

...

It was clear from the start that Placido would not go down without a fight. Whether it had been part of Glass' plan all along or perhaps he had genuinely and severely underestimated of just how deeply rooted the determination was in Placido's being—it made no difference; Dark Glass was forced to take the defensive either way.

Before Glass' very eyes, Placido underwent the same transformation he had witnessed back on the highway that one stormy night. But this wasn't one of motorcycles or cybernetic parts. It was a shift of mentality—the single-minded fixation of completely obliterating the enemy alongside everything else in front of him. With Yuusei, it had been personal. With Dark Glass, it went much beyond that.

Placido attacked Dark Glass in a near blind rage with a vicious ferocity akin to that of a lion's, the broken splinters of confidence and repressed anger only fueling his strength. The same prideful anger that caused his downfall in the first place now served to make him a whirlwind of chaos and terror. Bitter that his sword was taken away, Placido resorted to using his bare hands, clawing, tearing at his enemy's throat.

He was dangerous. It had been solely because Dark Glass wasn't fully flesh and blood that he even stood a chance against the Emperor. And Dark Glass was handicapped by his own words.

If Placido had achieved any victory in the first day, it was that he'd forced Dark Glass to go back on his word. Glass had only managed to subdue Placido through exactly what promised he wouldn't use—violence. The taser had emerged from nowhere and was stabbed straight into Placido's solar plexus.

The Emperor fell.

* * *

><p>When his systems went back online, Placido found himself tied to the pipe in the wall, thick rope wrapped around his wrists and arms several times over. His feet were bound together too, and the gag was back in his mouth. The lights were shut off and Placido was left alone in the darkness. Despite the ascending frustration of being a stillborn prisoner once more, there was also a small satisfaction of seeing the disgust in Glass' face. Whatever complacency Placido felt from seeing the bruises that littered Glass' chin paled in comparison to the raw, visceral satisfaction that settled in his gut from the D-wheeler's expression—there was raw emotion, ire mixed with a surge of frustration and wariness, with a hint of disgust.<p>

Dark Glass was always so calm, fancying himself to be in the seat of control—

The first night there, Placido learned the extent of the man he was dealing with.

Sleeping wasn't a necessity. His body was built with an internal clock. Not wasting a single precious moment, Placido began fabricating plans for escape.

Within the span of a minute, Placido came to realize that half of the functions were disabled from his body. The transmission signal to T-666 was completely blocked off, and after a mounting frustration, Placido finally attempted communicating with the other two Emperors only to discover that the telepathic link to his counterparts was defunct as well.

A familiar feeling stirred within him. He felt violated. The stranger had done something to him, meddled with his internal circuits.

* * *

><p>It had been in the evening when his captor returned. In place of Dark Glass was a young man wearing a jacket.<p>

For a moment, Placido really thought this man was the same amnesiac fool he'd punched out at the factory. The look not-Dark Glass gave him wasn't unfriendly, but it lacked the doe-eyed innocence Placido had been familiar with. There was something underneath that was uncharacteristically sharp as if Bruno was watching, appraising his every move in a way that wasn't characteristic of the meek, gentle-mannered tagalong of Yuusei's group.

Placido glared up at the man. An unidentifiable emotion flashed through Bruno's gray eyes, but no words were spoken. After an eternity of exchanging glares, Bruno left for the kitchen.

Spikes of adrenaline rose when he saw Bruno walking towards him with a bowl in hand; they peaked and died down when Placido saw it was actual food—it was a bowl of porridge.

The gag was loosened from his mouth and a spoonful of porridge held up to his lips.

"What did you do to my body?"

There was a bit of resistance before Bruno was able to weasel the spoon into Placido's mouth—only for Placido to spit it on the floor.

"I asked you a question! Tell me what did you do—!"

Bruno's expression settled into a cold glare before he tried again. This time, Placido spat the food straight in his face.

"_Bastard_…"

Stiffly, Bruno wiped the gruel off with the back of his sleeve. Anger was visible in his face, yet it expressed itself as more of a hard-set irritation than a dangerous flash. He stood back up, peering down at Placido with a mixture of deliberation and annoyance.

"You don't need to eat, do you?" he asked quietly.

Placido was mutinously silent.

Bruno stared back for several seconds before he finally looked away. Wordlessly, he slipped a spoonful of rice into his mouth, chewed on it, and swallowed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't touch any of your functions."

"Lies."

Bruno gave a nonchalant shrug. "Why would I know anything about mechanics in the future?" Then, almost as an afterthought, "Maybe you weren't repaired properly by your creator."

"…trying to confuse me with your mind games again?"

"No. No games tonight. I just came here to check up on you."

The implications were clear._ To feed you and attend to the needs most humans have._

"Don't touch my body." There were only a handful of individuals Placido allowed access to his internal infrastructure and he would sooner fork over a screwdriver to that slack-jawed smarmy clown than let this mechanic filth lay a single finger on him.

At that comment, Bruno gave him a look.

Bruno left around midnight, and once again Placido was alone, feeling oddly unsatisfied from their encounter.

* * *

><p>To Placido's disappointment, it was 'Bruno' who came to visit him there on out.<p>

Bruno was usually quiet, his normally peaceful features hardened with a somberness. Bruno was mild-mannered compared to his alter ego. He offered no provocation, no goading or cocky smirks to fuel Placido's hatred—and so the android's anger quelled, lying dormant yet wholly unpredictable and ready to erupt at any given instant.

Often Bruno brought with him a laptop which he would then spend hours on at a time. He rarely spoke to Placido, who watched on with a wary glare, untrusting of this mysterious stranger of a thousand masks and unpredictable motives. Long intervals of silence stretched between them filled only with the sound of constantly tapping keys and the occasional sideways glance thrown in his direction whenever Placido made a sound of frustration.

Two days passed before Placido couldn't take being ignored any longer.

"So… do you intend to 'break' me by having me bore into submission?"

No answer, not even a glance of recognition. The tapping of keys continued.

"What the hell are you doing?" he growled.

"I'm rewriting the program you stole from me and Yuusei," Bruno replied without looking away from the screen.

Placido didn't bother responding. Instead, he continued to watch his foe develop the program, line after line of coding appear on the black screen until finally:

"… and you call yourself a _mechanic_?" the words suddenly escaped his mouth without a filter. It was so unusual that Bruno actually craned over to look at him. "Any simpleton would know that changing the timing of the fuel injection system will only offset the stoichiometric air-fuel ratio in the boosters."

Bruno paused, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "But the improved cylinder-to-cylinder fuel distribution would enhance the engine's power output by 150%."

"Resulting in an ineffective exhaust catalysis that ultimately decreases the engine's efficiency," Placido snapped without missing a beat.

"Huh." From Bruno's tone, he sounded disinterested.

Annoyance bubbled within Placido. This idiot was just as bad his counterpart.

* * *

><p>The familiar clicking of the key and the doorknob turning roused Placido from his half-sleep.<p>

"What you said yesterday… you were talking about a close-loop transfer function."

"Very good," Placido replied scathingly. "Did you lose sleep all last night trying to figure that one out?"

"Do you think you could implement that for me?"

The shock wore off easily enough and Placido bit back a harsh laugh. "Come again?"

Bruno's expression didn't change. "You heard what I said."

"What makes you think that I'll actually help _you _of all people?"

"Because you were the one who stole our original program."

"Fuck off." He turned away from Bruno in disgust.

* * *

><p>The bomb-chucking anger burnt out quickly enough. Placido soon returned to the icy, cold-set persona, glaring up at his captor with an expression of unbreakable willpower.<p>

His authoritative aura had always been based on intimidation and threats of violence from the sharp tip of his sword, and it hid Placido's natural eloquence. With his physical strength stripped away from him, he resorted to using words as his weapon. He would talk with fervor and passion and rant and rave about justice, about destiny and humanity, about divine providence and the forsaken future. He was unbelievably articulate and the raw emotion in his voice only served to accentuate his beliefs—and had Bruno been weaker, he would have just as easily been swayed by Placido's convictions.

Sometimes Bruno would just listen to him for hours on end, never once interrupting him, never berating him or laughing in his face. He would wait for Placido to burn himself out before quietly picking apart his arguments or just sometimes he would just leave. And there were times, rare as they were, when he would ask for more information.

"You talk so much about fate…" Bruno posed one day, "...so was it fate that brought you here?"

Placido scoffed, and didn't let it show on his face the despair after countless of hours of dwelling on that same thought.

"I bet you think you're doing the right thing. Fudou Yuusei is a hero to you, isn't he. And here I am, filling in the role of the villain. Che. Humans… blind."

Dark Glass... Bruno had chosen the most opportune timing to capture Placido. Placido was vulnerable, emotionally and mentally—he had barely come to terms with his humiliating defeat at Yuusei's hands. He had been snatched away from the stark safety of Iliaster before he could gather his bearings. Even after everything else, Lucciano and Jose provided Placido with a key factor—reassurance. Reassurance that he was doing the right thing.


End file.
